


To George; My sweet, cold Muse

by manciissuperior



Series: To George; Love, Clay [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Colors, Hurt No Comfort, Inspired by Music, M/M, Metaphors, Muses, Pain, Planets, Unrequited Love, a lot of metaphors and im not joking, also paints and stuff like that but yes, breaking up, but with a sad undertone, george is an asshole im sorry, i had to add it sorry, i love hurting dream, no beta we die like men, no beta we die like their love ahahaha, pure angst, sad gay blockmen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:40:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27845383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manciissuperior/pseuds/manciissuperior
Summary: Who would have he been a star for, right? He couldn't shine for him anymore.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: To George; Love, Clay [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2043229
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	To George; My sweet, cold Muse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BreadAndDough](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreadAndDough/gifts), [smoluwuqueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smoluwuqueen/gifts).



> for the lovely kat and noeo because i thought they would like it :) mwah <3

“I don’t have a name anymore - never will, because I was your star, the star that shone only for you, and you left me. You left me as if you had stepped back from our Solar System while turning yourself around. I have no one to give my light to, no more to repel the warm fire of the Sun - no, no one to smile back at me in the sky while we are lost in the sea of each other's eyes, like bottled leaves from pirate ships. ”   
“Now, you are the light that shines when the heat is reflected on it - it must be a good feeling being what I was, because I will no longer be who you were to me. I didn’t do anything - I just received you and didn’t let you go because you were the greatest treasure I could ever raise my hand to - you, you who were never who could have been mine. At first, I wanted it to be, oh, how much I wanted to - but I knew you would never be and you never were. I knew the key to your heart was not me, no matter how hard I tried. I knew you needed more than I could give - I knew. Maybe you found your Sun? Did you find the one who shines on your face when a faint reddish blush creeps on them in torment? You found Him, who I couldn't be? ”

* * *

Clay sighed, bigger than ever before - but there was nothing he could do beyond that. From the lips, the warmth of his mouth slowly squeezed out, which he passed on to his surroundings as much as he could. He felt his heart clenched with an iron hammer, not letting it go, and his must, its ripe juice poured into wine glasses, even the fresh harvest — the juicy nectar that permeated him and he could no longer make to leave.   
He felt as if he had cooled down — like an ice-cold planet or a tiny leaf frozen in water, for he couldn’t keep himself big after that.  
He thought everything was fine, that nothing bad would embrace him or the object of his admiration until he had to realize that it was himself. He himself was the evil that chained to him to the warmth he wanted to project of himself, to someone who never wanted to get it again.

He thought everything was fine - he really thought so, but who would he have been if he had never been wrong? Because he was never wrong - and now he was the biggest idiot who wanted more than anything. Who wanted to get above zero degrees. Who thought He would hold his hand until their common reflected heat merged in a mirror, reviving a flame with it — but who would he have been if he hadn’t been wrong?

He thought their color would mash either, - he really thought as long as he stayed there, with a colorless goodbye in the rain, alone. He thought His blue would equalize his own warm and deep green — but who would he have been if he hadn't been wrong?  
Instead, he lingered on the stand like unpainted canvas, waiting for colorful brushstrokes that had never reached him, and never would.

When he first became nothing, he wouldn't have thought he'd be devoured by the fog, the dense, black fog that never spoke to him except its murmur, which never stopped. The dense fog that remained his only companion — who promised him without breaking it to remain eternal. Eternal is light, eternal is warm - eternal in heaven. More eternal than ever, and more colorful than colorful. It swallowed the green, swallowed the heat, and he, too, left him there alone in a bath filled with ice-cold water, which only the salty heat of his tears could hold him the way he could.  
When he first became null and void, he thought it wouldn’t bite him that much. It wouldn’t bite him as if he was throwing himself into a rose bush and sinking into it — it wouldn’t stab him as a fork stuck in his skin. But who would he be if he knew something he didn’t know. Who would have he been if he weren't wrong, right?

He didn't like the ice-cold minus where he found his home, where he found himself - because he wasn't anywhere else. He was no longer a star in the sky, he was no longer light. He became an anonymous planet, and he stopped to revolve around It. His axis was obscured, distorted, blurry, like wet chalk drawing on an asphalt road. He was a crayon, but colorless because the concentrated solitude sucked the blood out of it like a leech. Even a quick shower washed away the filth from it, so, the filth that gave it color and warmth.

* * *

  
At first, he really thought there was nothing wrong - by the time he didn’t realize there was. And he tried everything - he tried to become the one, he didn't, but wanted to, and he never succeeded. But he tried - he would have defended himself.   
Against who? There was no one longer out against him trying to convince him he was wrong. But who would he be if he knew? Who would he have been if he did? If there had been anyone there, who would have saved him?  
But He was no longer there, who was more than a simple celestial body, who was more than a million stars. He was the most beautiful part of his solar system, from whom thousands of ancient portraits could be made, for he shone more beautifully than anyone else, he was more beautiful than the thousands, hundreds, hundreds of thousands of stars — who stood above all, who were never few. Who never became what no one else wanted.  
Because He, he was perfect. More perfect than perfect — as the last digit of pi, he was so special. He would have been the most beautiful bush in flower gardens, if he had flowers, - and he would never be hurt because he is too majestic to fall into the hands of ordinary people.  
He was more beautiful than any muse the world had ever seen - because He was his muse. The muse of the gods who shaped him like a fairy, perfectly making all his features. He was their most beautiful work, and everyone admired it - even the Sun. Moreover, better than the Sun, he believed in a much brighter, brighter shine. So much so that many did not even reach him - and those who did all failed. Clay was one of them, begging for an angel — one he could never grab. He was weak enough to ever win him over. But at first, he trusted him — he trusted him, if he did. Yet he will be the hero who can do it - but who would he have been if he were not wrong?

“George, who took my name - and yet you were my most beautiful rose, please don’t turn away from me anymore. Please become mine and raise your face with red blush towards me while you shine. You shine better than any star out of mine could have been. Because they are not you, not whom I desire. But you erased me" he broke down here. He wiped his face with trembling hands, slowly soaking the salty sea in his skin, which he could no longer contain. A weak, soft sigh left his broken and bloody lips.

* * *

  
The phone rang.

Then again.

And once again...  
He didn't pick it up.

“See, you deleted me from here, too. Maybe I wasn’t strong enough, I wasn’t who you wanted - although that’s too clear. What gave me little George? Maybe you want more light? I would become a burning mirror of the sun for you - you understand, who didn’t want me. I’ve become an empty, colorless porcelain jar from you, and I feel like I’m breaking as if I want to blow particles inside myself - funny, right? I don't even know what to expect from you, George, because you're not anymore. ”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you sm for reading! i hope you enjoyed it and are having an amazing day :] <3


End file.
